


keep you safe

by drunkonwriting



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bodyguard Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonwriting/pseuds/drunkonwriting
Summary: tony gets another stalker in a long line of stalkers. the avengers finally put their foot down and assign bucky as his bodyguard.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 307
Collections: 2019 WinterIron_Holiday_Exchange





	keep you safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gryvon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/gifts).



> written for [gryvon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/pseuds/gryvon) for the winteriron holiday exchange! merry (belated) christmas and hopefully this fulfills your bodyguard au wish. this went a lot longer than i planned but it was a lot of fun to write! written in some nebulous au timeline between catws and age of ultron.

“This ends here, Tony.”

Tony groaned. Being stuck in a hospital bed, even if it was only the one in Bruce’s lab, was not his idea of a good time. Adding a lecture from a clearly disapproving Captain America only made everything worse.

“It’s nothing, Cap,” he said. “The cops have this guy’s picture and I’ve filed the restraining order already.”

Steve stared at him. “Tony,” he said, as slowly as he might explain to a child, “you were _stabbed_. You’ve apparently had some guy following you around for _weeks_ and you didn’t _tell anyone_!” Steve threw up his hands. “Why wouldn’t you tell anyone?”

“Cap,” Bruce said quietly from Tony’s side where he was finishing stitching up the hole in Tony’s stomach. It hurt like a bitch. “Remember what we talked about.”

“I’m not blaming him!” Steve said. “But I’d like to know why the hell Tony thought he should keep the fact he had some kind of stalker a secret!”

“It wasn’t a _secret_ ,” Tony said, shifting a little as Bruce pulled on the stitches. He winced. “It just wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal?!”

“Steve, I’ve had stalkers since I was four years old,” Tony told him. “I’ve been kidnapped half a dozen times. I’ve had people follow me around to ask me for photos and sleep with me so they can give a tabloid tell-all and sell all of my secrets. This only seems like a big deal to you because it’s the first one you know about—trust me when I say getting stabbed by a stalker is just another Tuesday in Tony Stark’s life. Be like Elsa and let it go.”

“Let it _go_?”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Tony, I’m not letting anything _go_! This guy got away! Who knows if he’s going to come back and try again!”

Tony shrugged and hissed through his teeth. Bruce gave him an unsympathetic look but his hands gentled on the stitches.

“If he tries again, I’ll just send him to the police,” he said.

Steve was silent for so long that Tony actually looked up at him. When he saw Steve’s appalled look, he rolled his eyes.

“Come _on_ ,” he said, exasperated. “You can’t seriously expect me to cower in the Tower, can you? I’m _Iron Man_ , Cap. This guy’s some weirdo with a fixation and a knife—I can take him.”

“ _Can_ you?” Steve demanded. “Look at you!”

“It’s _not_ that bad. Bruce, tell him!”

Bruce looked between them. “He has some minor internal bleeding, but the stab didn’t hit any major arteries or organs,” he said finally. “Which I would say is just luck but it’s kind of a statistical impossibility, so it’s more likely that the guy is well-versed in the human body and knew exactly where to stab where it wouldn’t cause any actual damage. That concerns me, Tony. That means he’s still enough in his right mind that he doesn’t want to actually hurt you and that means he’s very dangerous.”

“Not you _too_! I’ll be fine.”

“Tony,” Steve said. “This isn’t up for debate. I’m calling in Rule 17.”

“You can’t Rule 17 me, this doesn’t affect—”

“ _Rule 17_.”

Tony huffed. “Fine. God.”

* * *

Rule 17 had been put into place after one too many old enemies had come calling. Tony wasn’t usually a big believer in things like rules, but living with supersoldiers and gods and uber spies had made him realize that they could be useful. Most of the house rules were simple things like _do your own damn dishes_ and _stop climbing in the vents_ and _whoever finishes the box of cereal has to buy a new box_. Nothing extraordinary. Rule 17, though, was about house safety. In the official house rule charter (drawn up by Steve because no one else cared enough to put it in writing), it read: _Teammates will immediately inform each other if a personal vendetta becomes a threat to the safety of others living in the Tower or if any past enemies will become a threat to the safety of others living in the Tower_.

“—isn’t Rule 17, though,” Tony explained through gritted teeth at the team meeting he’d been forced to attend. Bruce had cleared him for light physical work after a week of careful monitoring, but his stitches still twinged whenever he moved too much. “This doesn’t affect the team’s safety. This guy’s only intereted in me.” He sighed dramatically, trying to ease the tension in the room. “It’s a heavy burden to bear, being so good-looking and desirable that everyone wants to take a bite. And I mean literally _bite_ , the last stalker I had nearly took a chunk out of my ear.”

He was met with a lot of unimpressed faces. Tony made a face. No one ever laughed at his stalker jokes.

“This isn’t a joke, Tony,” Steve said.

“If this lunatic is willing to stab you, then he’s willing to do anything to get to you,” Sam chimed in from the corner of the room, arms folded across his chest. “That means he’d hurt one of us to get to you, Tony.”

“He’s clearly smarter than you’re giving him credit for,” Natasha said. She’d kept her eyes on Tony from the moment he walked through the door. “He stabbed you without actually hurting you. That takes skill. He’s not an idiot.”

“He’s a careful stabber,” Clint agreed. “You know what that means? He’s ten times crazier than the sloppy stabbers. That’s fucking trouble and you know it, nuts and bolts.”

“More importantly, it will hurt _us_ if _you_ get hurt again,” Steve said impatiently.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on,” he said. “You’re all acting like this is some huge deal. He’s just a stalker! I’ve dealt with them all the time!”

“All the time?”

They all looked at Barnes, lurking in the corner. He didn’t always come to team meetings and he rarely said anything during them. Tony’s skin shivered a little at the dark look on Barnes’s face. He looked a little more Winter Soldier like that, but Tony would never say that it didn’t work for him. He’d always had a weakness for tall, dark, and murderous.

“Since I was a kid,” Tony told him. “What can I say? I can’t help it that I’m so charming and loveable people just want to follow me around.”

“It was the worst at MIT,” Rhodey said as he came into the room. Tony sat up straighter, grinning in delight. He hadn’t known Rhodey was coming! That made this entire thing worth it. “Stupid little shit had the self-preservation of a koala bear. Had to drag him out of people’s cars more than once.”

“Ruined my game, you mean,” Tony lamented. “Some of those stalkers were pretty hot, you know.”

“Kept you from being turned into some weird sex slave in some guy’s basement, that’s what I did,” Rhodey said, sliding into Tony’s chair like they were teenagers again, locking his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “What happened this time? Did they get a chunk of your hair again? Someone try to bite you?”

“Stabbing,” Tony said blithely.

Since he was pressed up against him, Tony could feel the way Rhodey tensed even though he only smiled easily.

“Stabbing, huh?” Rhodey said. “Been a while since that one.”

“You mean this has happened _before_?” Steve asked, utterly appalled. “Rhodes, why hasn’t anyone—”

“You think we haven’t tried, Cap?” Rhodey asked in the no-nonsense neutral voice that meant he was pissed as hell. “Tony’s been in the public eye since he was a baby, so he’s basically a celebrity—it's impossible to keep people from going after him and it only got worse when he went public as Iron Man.”

“I mean, I read the reports, but I thought they stopped after Iron Man,” Clint said. “What gives?”

“SHEILD isn’t all-knowing,” Tony told him smugly.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. Danger, Will Robinson, Tony thought nonsensically. But Natasha wasn’t the one who spoke, it was Barnes.

“You _hid_ your stalkers from SHIELD?” he asked. He didn’t sound angry, he sounded cold. But cold in the way of a blizzard or black ice—harsh enough to cleve skin from bone.

“Some of these guys weren’t worth the hassle,” Tony said. “And some of them were—personal. What SHIELD doesn’t know doesn’t hurt them.”

“But it does hurt _you_ ,” Sam said with concern.

Tony shrugged. “Not usually,” he said. “Mostly they just want to get my attention for a few minutes.”

Tony kept his face easy and open, refused to think about the last guy he’d had who had broken down crying the moment he’d gotten close enough, who’d begged Tony to release him because he wanted to die honorably, to die fighting. Or the girl a few times before that who had swallowed the lie her mother had told her about Tony being her father so thoroughly that she’d been utterly devastated when he revealed it wasn’t true. Some of these, they weren’t violent or insane or hurtful—they were just sad people or sick people who had, for whatever reason, fixated on Tony. And Tony wasn’t about to send them into the arms of the police or the black vans of SHIELD for that. Not when he could help them instead.

“Can we finish this up?” Tony asked. “I’ve got a shareholder’s meeting and then I’m supposed to swing by my tailor’s for that Gala tomorrow night—”

“You _cannot_ be serious,” Barnes said.

Tony frowned at him. “Bruce cleared me. I’m not going to shiver little a kid in my Tower over some guy.”

The rest of the team began to shout, all of them talking over each other. Barnes was the only one who stayed quiet, watching Tony with sharp eyes and his arms crossed over his chest.

“You can’t be serious—”

“Tony—”

“Fucking idiot—”

“Think of your safety—”

“This is non-negotiable, Tony!” Steve said, cutting through the chatter. “Until this guy is caught, you’re not going _anywhere_ without someone watching you.”

“I’m not a _child_ , Steve—”

“ _Nowhere_.”

Steve and Tony glared at each other. Tony had been called a stubborn ass more than once in his lifetime, but even he knew that Steve Rogers could give him a run for his money. He held out for a moment longer mostly out of spite, then sat back with a huff.

“I’m _Iron Man_ ,” he complained. “I can protect myself.”

“When you’re not wearing the suit, you’re vulnerable,” Steve said. “Bucky. You’re on Stark Duty from here on out.”

“ _What_?”

“What?”

Tony exchanged a look with Barnes. They’d both spoken at the same time, but Tony had been indignant while Barnes had sounded almost panicked. Panicked for Barnes, anyway. Barnes looked away immediately, back toSteve. Tony frowned at him. Was he pink in the face or was that Tony’s imagination?

“Steve,” Barnes said. “I think Stark’s right. He doesn’t need a babysitter.”

“Bodyguard,” Steve said. “And he _does_. Nat’s right, this guy is more dangerous than he seems. Until someone gets him, we need to be safe.”

“But why _me_?”

“You have the most experience as a bodyguard,” Steve said. Tony blinked. Barnes _had_ been used as a bodyguard during his Winter Soldier days. “Also, since you’re not an official Avenger, fewer people know your face. If this guy really is following Tony around, it’s better not to spook him with someone he’ll recognize. But you and Tony don’t spend time together outside of the Tower—it’s perfect.”

Barnes stared at Steve for a long time. Tony frowned, looking between them. Every argument Steve gave was logical, a well-thought-out plan from their main tactician. But from the butter-wouldn’t-melt look in Steve’s eyes to the dark glower on Barnes’s face, Tony had a feeling there was more to this choice than simple tactics.

“And I guess my opinion doesn’t matter in all of this?” he asked.

They both jerked to look at him. Steve opened his mouth, but Barnes beat him to it.

“‘course it does,” he muttered, gruff. “Say the word and I’ll switch with someone else.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. He regarded Barnes critically. Barnes bore up under his scrutiny remarkably well, but Tony was pretty sure that _was_ pinkness in his face and not just Tony’s imagination. He grinned inwardly but kept his scowl firmly fixed.

“Fine,” he said at last and there was a breath of relief that wen through the room. “But I have _conditions_.”

* * *

“Why do I need to wear this again?”

Tony rolled his eyes. How many times had Barnes asked that now?

“We’re about to enter the corporate world,” Tony told him. “Your raggamuffin look is cute in the Tower and all, but you’re going to draw attention if you roll up to my board meeting in jeggings and a hoodie.”

“They’re not _jeggings_.”

Tony ignored Barnes’s offended murmur. Despite his protests and his exclamations that everything was fine, he was on edge. It had been a long time since he’d had a violent stalker—not since before Afghanistan. He found himself scanning the street, wary of all the people passing. Did that man do a double take because he recognized the famous Tony Stark? Was that one smiling at him out of courtesy or because he had a knife?

A hand skimmed his shoulder. Tony flinched, but it was only Barnes in his new suit behind him, expression unreadable.

“He’s not here,” he said. 

“How do _you_ know?” Tony asked. “He was wearing a mask last time. And you weren’t even there.”

Barnes’s eyes darkened. “I know I wasn’t there,” he said. “For one, I would never have let the bastard get away.”

Tony blinked. Barnes sounded more vehement than Tony would have guessed. “And two?”

“For two, he would never have been able to stab you in the first place.”

Hm. Tony considered him. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“Look, Stark—”

“Tony.”

“What?”

“No employee of mine calls me _Stark_ and honestly if you call me _Mr. Stark_ it’s going to bring up all kinds of unpleasant connotations with my dad since you knew him. So call me Tony.”

Barnes was going pink again. He blushed a lot for a world-famous assassin.

“Fine. Tony. I know you don’t like me much, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t like you much?” Tony blinked. “Why d’you think that?”

“You—Uh.”

Barnes blinked at him. Tony raised his eyebrows.

“I like you just fine, Barnes.”

“Bucky.”

“ _No_.”

“What—”

“If I can’t call you by your last name, I refuse to call you _Bucky_. James okay?”

Barnes blinked again. “Sure, why not?”

“Great. Come on, _James_.”

Blushing again. Tony grinned a little to himself. He always did like finding new toys.

* * *

Pepper kept him back after the meeting. She eyed Barnes—James—standing behind his shoulder and frowned at him worriedly.

“You’re doing all right, aren’t you, Tony?” she asked.

“Of course!” He grinned at her. “Come on, Pep, this isn’t any different than the dozens of other stalkers we’ve kicked the ass of before.”

“None of them _stabbed_ you, Tony!”

“He got a little too close. It’s fine.” He reached back and patted James on the chest. “I’ve got big, dark, and handsome here to protect me in my hour of need.”

Pepper’s eyes narrowed. “ _You_ found a bodyguard?” she asked.

Tony fluttered his eyelashes at her. “What? I can be flexible.”

“Tony. You barely let _Happy_ be your bodyguard.”

“Well Happy wasn’t an assassin for seventy years, was he?”

It was only when he felt the flinch under his palm that he realized that probably wasn’t sensitive. Tony winced and glanced over his shoulder, but James’s eyes were fixed on the wall over Pepper’s head. Whoops. He patted his chest once more—hm, muscle-y— and reluctantly withdrew his hand.

“I’ve been in contact with the police,” Pepper said, still eyeing him strangely. “They still haven’t caught him, but they have a rough sketch of his description. They’ve stationed officers around the Tower in the hope that if he tries to come back again they can catch him.”

“The _hope_?” James muttered, derisive.

“Now, now, the amateurs are doing all they can,” Tony said. “Do you have a copy of this so-called sketch?”

“I’ll email it to you,” Pepper said. “Tony, are you sure—”

“Pep. I’ll be fine.”

She eyed him and then looked over his shoulder at James. “He’s _not_ to be left alone, do you understand?”

“ _Pepper_ —”

“I mean it. I know you’re a scary assassin, but I’ve taken out worse than you for him and I’ll do it again. If he gets stabbed again, I’m blaming you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” James murmured.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m surrounded by drama queens,” he muttered.

Pepper made a face at him. “By the way,” she said in her sweetest voice, “you didn’t happen to forget the Charity Gala tomorrow night?”

Tony froze. “ _What_?”

* * *

“She lives to torture me,” Tony muttered into his burger. “I swear to god, she was put on this earth to make my life miserable.”

“Now who’s being a drama queen?” James asked.

He’d ordered three burgers to Tony’s one and was in the middle of demolishing the third. Tony liked going out to eat with the supersoldiers—watching people’s disbelief at the sheer amount of food they could inhale was always entertaining. But he was too depressed to think about it now.

“Another damn gala,” he said morosely. “I hate those things.”

“Hm.”

Tony glared at James. “Don’t you start,” he groused. “Just because I’m _good_ at them doesn’t mean I _like_ them.”

James licked some ketchup off his fingers. Tony couldn’t watch that, he was determined to be whiny. He flung a paper napkin James’s way.

“Use that, you heathen,” he said.

James gave him a look but did it. “Why don’t you like them?”

“What?”

“The galas.”

Tony offered him his snarkiest grin. “What makes you think I don’t like them?”

James rolled his eyes. “Do I need to make the list?” he asked, dry. When Tony raised his eyebrows, he began to tick off on his fingers with obvious exasperation. “You talk too much, you do that weird media smile, you complain all the damn time, you spend the next two days in the lab to feel better—”

“All right, all right,” Tony said, waving his hands. He felt torn between amusement and anger. James had noticed more than he’d realized. “Fine. I don’t like them.”

“Why?”

“Why would I? My old man made me go out and be his dancing monkey from the minute I was old enough to wear a suit and smile for the cameras—I kept doing it because it’s the best way to make sure my company stays swimming. But everyone there is…” He considered. “Fake. I know it, they know it. None of us are real and dealing with that is a fucking nightmare. There’s so much endless talking and too many people stepping on my toes during the dances.”

James considered it. “But you’re still going?”

“Pepper asked me to,” he said and then added, with a bitter smile, “And just because I hate them doesn’t mean I’m not good at them.”

“Hm,” James said and, to Tony’s relief, changed the subject to the new recipe Steve was trying without any further prying.

* * *

They made it back to the Tower in one piece. Tony was talking about suit updates, James listening in long-suffering silence, when he reached into his pocket and felt the edges of a photograph. Tony frowned, pausing mid-sentence. He hadn’t put that there.

“Tony?” James asked, straightening.

Tony ignored him, taking out the photograph. As he drew it out, his blood ran cold. It dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers. James picked it up and swore.

The picture was innocuous enough. It was Tony laughing at something off-screen, his eyes lit up. Tony might have even considered it a good picture except for the fact that the clothes he was wearing were the exact same ones he was wearing now—whoever had taken that picture had taken it today. Had taken it while Tony was out on the street, without Tony noticing. His back broke out into goosebumps.

Someone had written a note on the thick white stripe at the bottom of the photograph. It said, _I will make sure you’re never happy again._

“Inside,” James said grimly. His face was hard-set and dangerous, all Winter Soldier. “ _Now_.”

* * *

“You can’t go to the Gala,” James said grimly.

He’d marched Tony to his room and forced him to stay outside as he swept it. Tony had let it all happen, still troubled by the photograph. When could the stalker have slipped it into his pocket? And if he had managed to get so close, why hadn’t he just finished the job he’d tried to do last time?

The thought had clearly occurred to James too. He looked a little wild around the edges as he sat down next to Tony on his bed, metal hand flexing and clenching as if it longed for something to punch. He kept looking around the room as if he was checking for someone hiding in the shadows.

“I have to go,” Tony said. “This isn’t just for Stark Industries, it’s for the Avengers. We raise more money for charity tomorrow night than we do all year and without me there it’s not going to go nearly as well. I _have_ to be there.”

James’s metal hand tightened into a closed fist. “He is going to be there,” he said.

“I know,” Tony said grimly.

A crowded room full of people, a party where no one would take much notice of someone who wasn’t supposed to be there… It would be the perfect opportunity to make a strike at Tony. He knew it and James knew it.

James’s arms were shaking just a little. Tony frowned at him, concerned, as he realized it was because James was clenching his fists so tightly. His shoulders were a hard, tense line, raised and furious. Tony laid one gentle hand on him and felt the knotted muscle under his palm.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll warn the police, we’ll have the best security money can buy and this guy won’t get two feet from me.”

James shook his head. “You’ll be fine,” he said in that dark, Winter Soldier voice again. “But it’s because I’m going with you.”

“James—”

“Tony.” James laid a hand over the one Tony had on his shoulder. His flesh hand was warm and strong. “I’m coming with you.”

“Well, then,” Tony said quietly. “I guess we’d better get you a tux.”

* * *

Tony felt like he was vibrating with impatience. He’d already fielded two calls from Pepper ensuring he was coming tonight and with his self-appointed bodyguard. They were going to be late as it was, but Tony was almost always late to these things. He adjusted his cuff links and checked his hair in the window. Fine.

“Ready?”

Tony whirled. “Finally—!” Tony choked on his tongue.

James quirked an eyebrow at him, mouth curling up in a wry smile. “Your tailor has a quick turnaround,” he said.

 _And good taste,_ Tony thought a little dazedly, taking in the black-on-black suit Andre had seen fit to send James out into the world wearing. It was a little dour for an event, but it looked absolutely striking. Tony swallowed hard and forced a smile.

“You clean up nice,” he said.

James smiled at him. “Back at you,” he said. He gestured to the door.“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

* * *

The gala was full of people and James didn’t like it, Tony could tell. He was a tense shadow looming over Tony’s shoulder, scowling around the room. Even though Tony had only been there an hour, the rest of the party was giving him a wide berth. Tony appreciated it.

“It’s the first time I haven’t been plastered in people at one of these things,” he said. “You’re handy, Barnes.”

“Aren’t you calling me James?”

Tony flicked a look at him. “Fine. You’re handy, _James_.” He really was too tense. “Look, we can leave soon. Pepper only wanted an appearance. We’ll stay for an hour, schmooze as much money as we can out of these guys, and then we’ll be back in the Tower, safe and sound. Before midnight, even.”

“You can stay as long as you need,” James said. “I just don’t like this crowd. It makes it hard to keep an eye on you.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the blatant lie and reached to tap James’s shoulder. James shivered under the tap, eyes widening.

“You’re tenser than a first grader with a helicopter mom at a spelling bee,” Tony told him. “You might as well be wearing a sign that says _Tony Stark’s Personal Shield_! I thought you were supposed to be discreet?”

He looked around. Normally by this time, he’d be swarmed with the other guests, all of them asking questions and wanting to talk shop. Today, people were keeping their distance, eyeing James warily. Tony grinned a little but reminded himself that this was for the company and the Avengers. And Pepper, obviously.

He sighed. Only one way to make James a little more approachable. Thankfully, it was something Tony had been itching to do ever since he’d seen James in his tux.

“Come on,” he said authoritatively, holding out his hand. “We’d better dance.”

James dropped the glass he’d been holding. He caught it a second later before it hit the ground, but wrapped his metal fingers around it so tightly that it cracked. Tony blinked, then smiled a little.

“What?” he asked, amused at the way James’s face was beginning to fill with a flush. “You embarrassed to be seen with me, Barnes?”

He hoped Steve had filled James in on the more lax attitudes toward gay couples nowadays, otherwise, this would end very awkwardly. Tony didn’t _think_ he’d been reading the signals that badly, but he’d been burned before by straight guys. But James’s immediate and enthusiastic headshake made him relax a little.

“No!” James said loudly, drawing attention. He straightened under all the eyes, some professionalism returning to his face. “Tony, I’m supposed to be protecting you, not—not dancing with you.”

“So do both,” Tony suggested, leaning into James’s space, bracing his torso against James’s arm. James felt warm and solid against him. “You can dance and keep an eye on me at the same time, can’t you, Mr. Ghost Story?”

James scowled. “You can’t bait me into this, Tony,” he said. “I’m not Steve, I’m not going to do something just because you dare me to.”

Tony fluttered his eyelashes. James’s scowl wavered and Tony was careful not to show his victorious smirk. Rhodey had told him once, wry and a little disgusted, that Tony really could get anything he liked with a flutter of his eyelashes. Good to know he still had it.

“Come on,” Tony wheedled. “It’ll be fun! And if I’m out there with you, there’s at least a 7% less chance of anyone else getting their hands on me.”

James’s mouth ticked up. “Only 7% huh?”

“ _James_.”

“Fine.”

Tony let out a quiet whoop and quickly deposited his own drink next to James’s cracked cup on the nearest table. He offered James his hand and ignored the shiver that went up to his arm as James took it in his, palm to palm.

Tony ignored the whispers that followed them. This was high society and even though Tony didn’t tolerate any kind of bullshit, they were still far out from two men dancing without there being _some_ notice—especially when one of them was Tony Stark. Tony turned to James once they were on the edge of the dance floor and brace his free hand on his hip.

“You _have_ danced before, haven’t you?”

“Not much,” James admitted, looking around at the steadily whirling couples. “I had a few lessons when I was a kid. Pretty sure I remember it.”

“Hm,” Tony said. He looked James up and down critically. “Do you know how to lead?”

James tilted his head. “Kind of.”

“Better than nothing,” Tony said. “Considering you’ve got at least four inches on me, it’s going to have to do. Come on then!”

He held out his arm with mocking extravagance. James took it with an upturned mouth and they were off.

Tony had danced with a lot of people at these things—it was a kind of requirement. He’d found that the people he danced with tended to fall into categories—the over-eager gropers, the try-too-hards that stepped on your feet, the nervous ones that held you like spun glass, the aggressive ones that practically left bruises… Tony had seen them all.

James, however, didn’t do any of that. He held Tony firmly and he led without hesitation. Tony probably should have guessed that the Winter Soldier would be able to dance—after all, he’d seen the kind of grace that James brought to the field. It didn’t stop a flush from rising up Tony’s neck as they spun and spun without pause, as James brought him closer and closer into the circle of his arms. James’s hands were wide and warm on Tony’s waist, his shoulder broad and hard under Tony’s fingers. His eyes were an intense blue against the darkness of his suit and they weren’t fixed on the crowd or his feet—they were focused, with searing intensity, on Tony.

Within minutes, Tony forgot all about the watching crowd they were supposed to be soothing, the money he was supposed to be raking in and even his violent stalker.

Of course, it couldn’t last. Tony blinked, feeling like he was coming out of a dream, as the music stopped and the dancing faded into clapping couples. For a long moment, he and James stood and stared at each other. Tony opened his mouth, closed it again.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Tony turned to see a nondescript younger man with blond hair and wide glasses. He smiled at Tony gently.

“If you’re not too busy,” he said. “I would love the next dance.”

Eager to get away from what he was starting to realize would be a very messy emotional conversation, Tony nodded and smiled.

“Tony—” James said. His brow was furrowed when Tony looked back.

Tony waggled his fingers. “Don’t worry, pumpkin,” he said. “It’s only one dance.”

He took the blond man’s hand and ignored the way they felt clammy in his. He forced himself not to look back at James.

* * *

The blond man was quiet for most of their dance. He was one of the nervous ones who barely held Tony at all. Tony didn’t much care for that, but it was better than the ones who left bruises. Tony examined him as they danced and couldn’t get much other than that he was a young, anxious-looking guy. He barely looked Tony in the eye their entire dance, didn’t offer his name or much conversation until the end.

“You look like you’re having a good time,” the man said as the dance began to come to a stop.

Tony blinked at him, then offered his showman’s smile. “Of course I am,” he said. “It’s a beautiful party and I’m dancing with a handsome man. Nothing better, am I right?”

The man smiled. “Of course,” he said.

The dance came to a stop. Tony looked and frowned when he realized he didn’t see James anywhere. He should have been there. Tony’s heart began to beat double-time against his chest. Had something happened to him?

“I’d better—”

A hand clamped around Tony’s wrist. Tony blinked down, but it was only his dance partner.

“If you have the time,” he said. “I’d love to get a quick drink with you, discuss some business.”

Tony almost groaned, but it _was_ why he was here. He offered the guy a quick smile. “Sounds fun,” he said. “You a whiskey man?”

The guy began to lead him to the drink bar. Tony had pretty much resigned himself to his fate of being schmoozed by a complete stranger who probably didn’t have the slightest clue of how much Tony knew about mechanics when James was suddenly there, his face hard and his eyes cold. Without pause, he reached for Tony’s arm and pulled him over. Tony opened his mouth, uncertain about the weird manhandling.

“Don’t get out from behind me,” James told him and then looked at the blond man. “Leave.”

“What?” the blond man asked with a genial laugh. “Who are you? Mr. Stark, this man—”

“ _Leave_.”

“James—”

“Tony, _stay behind me_.”

Tony peered out from James’s shoulder. They were attracting attention and he winced at the thought of damage control. What the fuck was James doing, anyway? This guy wasn’t a threat, he was practically a kid and he was—holding out a gun.

Tony’s stomach froze. He didn’t have his suit. Fuck, he didn’t even have his glove.

“You can’t have him!” the blond kid snarled, face so twisted with anger that it was almost impossible to recognize him. “He’s _mine_.”

“He’s not _yours_ ,” James said. “Put the gun down.”

“He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s—”

A gunshot. Tony was tackled to the ground immediately as screams rang out in the room. For a dizzying moment, Tony had no idea what was up or down, but then the warm body pressing him to the ground got up. Tony tried to sit up and only caught the tail end of James tackling the blond guy to the ground, gun spinning away on the floor. Tony scrambled to his feet.

“James!” he said, hurrying to his side. “Are you—”

“Stay back, Tony,” James said. He looked over his shoulder and quickly assessed Tony’s entire body with his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Just fine,” Tony told him. He stared at the pinned man. “That’s really him?”

“That’s really him,” James told him. “It’s over.”

* * *

“You really gave us a scare, you know,” Steve told Tony later that night.

They’d gathered for drinks in the common room, mingling as a movie played softly in the background. Tony, mostly drinking warm tea, shrugged.

“Yeah, well,” he said. “I told you guys it was nothing to worry about. Just another weirdo with a fixation.”

Steve gave him a stern look and so did Natasha, who was listening nearby. Tony rolled his eyes. Mother hens, he thought fondly.

“I’m going out on the balcony,” he told their disapproving stares. “If that’s all right with my babysitters.”

“Tony—”

He swept away before Steve could say another word. It was cool outside and the full moon was high. Tony leaned against the balcony railing and sighed, relaxing for the first time in weeks. It really was over. They’d given the blond man over to the police who’d arrived at the report of a gunshot fired and he would be in their custody from now on. James had been relieved of bodyguard duty now that he’d been found and Tony could go back to living his stalker-less existence. Until the next one came along, of course.

“You okay?”

Tony looked over his shoulder. James, of course, looked beautiful in the moonlight. He shrugged.

“Been better,” he said. “Seems anti-climatic now. He was just a kid.”

James moved closer until he was standing at Tony’s side. “A kid with a gun, Tony.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Anyone ever told you you’re too nice for your own good?”

Tony snorted. “Never,” he said. He eyed James. He really did look good, he thought. And tonight, he’d danced with Tony. Tony’s mouth twisted up and he leaned into James’s side. “You were pretty dashing tonight, you know? I don’t think any bodyguard I’ve had has made me feel so much like a pampered princess.”

James looked down at him with flickering eyes. “Really?” he asked.

Tony fluttered his eyelashes. “You know it, big guy. But the thing is, there is _one_ little thing you missed.”

“Something I missed?” James frowned. “What?”

Tony tapped on his mouth. “Pretty sure princesses get kissed after getting protected, hotshot.”

James stared at him. He was blushing again, even though it was harder to see in the moonlight. “Tony—” he said roughly.

“Come on, then,” Tony said imperiously.

James reached out with his flesh hand, cradling Tony’s jaw with gentle fingers. He dipped his head. Tony leaned up to meet him in the world’s softest kiss. Tony was smiling as they parted, and so was James.

“All right,” Tony said and reached up to tangle his hand in James’s hair, pulling him in for another kiss. “I guess this bodyguard business isn’t so bad.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos always welcome!


End file.
